Author's Note: Have you been reading? Joy! Okay, here's the second part where we actually get into the story... (see Chapter 1 for awesome illustration for this chapter)

Disclaimer: I only own Bree, everything else belongs to RTD as much as I resent that...

Chapter 2:

Bree rolled over in bed; she was tired, as usual, but couldn't sleep, as usual. "Bugger," she grumbled, and adjusted the sheets. She sighed an exhausted sigh and let her head sink slowly into the cool pillow.

At that exact moment, a rumble, thump, and bump followed shortly by an "Oh, bollocks," was sounded just beyond Bree's bed.

"What?" she sat up with a start.

"Ow… how do I always manage to hit my head?" muttered the voice that had said bollocks, "hold on."

She took this last to be directed at her and waited in trepidation, but not for long because shortly a bright blue light was pointed directly at her face, "Arg!" she winced, putting her hands up and turning her head away, "shine that somewhere else!"

"Sorry," someone apologized, now she could make out a tall profile of what she assumed to be a man, sounded like a man at any rate, "Have you got a light switch somewhere?"

"On the wall behind you," she gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "Ah, here we go!" and he flicked the switch. Bree winced again, but the light over her bed was at least less pointed directed at her. "'Allo," the man called cheerily, "oh, sorry, were you sleeping? Well that explains why it was dark…"

Bree blinked at him, not understanding a word of this, "Um… actually, I was trying to sleep, but close enough. Um, where'd you come from?"

"Good question," the man turned away from her and glanced about, "I'm not sure… seen any time-and-space portals recently?"

"No," Bree answered blankly.

"Oh well, thought I'd ask just in case… and you have a mirror on your door?" he had crouched down and withdrawn a pair of thickly rimmed black glasses from some pocket within his long brown coat and was now staring up at Bree as if she were an alien.

Bree tried very hard not to say 'pot calling the kettle black' and instead answered, "Yes, I don't really have anywhere else to put it." The man seemed to accept this answer and went back to examining it. "How long have you had this mirror?" he inquired, straightening up, and Bree again had to remark on how tall he was, and not in a bad way, not at all.

"Uh, about a year I think, why? Is its' age important?" she studied him with a frown, wondering what he was thinking. The man shrugged, "Not really, but if you had just gotten it from an unusual seller, that might tell me something, but you haven't so that leaves…" and he carefully pulled it off her door.

"Hey!" she would have leapt out of bed at this point, but she was rather aware that she was lacking pants, pants which the strange man was unfortunately standing on. The man ignored her and proceeded to shine his blue light over the back of it, as if scanning for something, but Bree could little guess how a little flashlight, albeit odd, could tell you anything.

"Now, that's interesting," he said to himself, and not quietly. It was then that Bree noticed that no one else had woken up, "Wait, why isn't the rest of my family awake?"

"What?" the man looked up at her blankly, "oh, sorry, that's probably me; I tend to have that effect on things."

"What, make the sound go dead?"

"No, make things happen the way I want them to. Well, sometimes that happens, well, a few times, well… just the once, but it was really really cool," and a huge grin spread across his face, a grin that under different circumstances Bree would have fallen in love with, but at the moment she was too bemused to take notice.

Catching her confused expression, his grin melted away, "Sorry," he muttered, and replaced the mirror.

"So," he started off with cheery excitement, "you have a time-and-space portal stuck to the back of your mirror from the very very distant future. In fact, the earth didn't even exist when they started finding these, so how did it get here?" He had removed his glasses and was now scratching his chin as he peered into it.

Bree had no idea what he was looking for because all she could see was the reflection of her room, but she was more concerned with taking this opportunity to snatch up her pajama pants and put them on so that she might question him properly. "What are you looking for?" she asked, coming up beside him.

"A clue as to who sent this here, oh! Sorry, I've been so rude, but that's who I am now, so…" Bree gave him another completely blank look and the Doctor stopped. He stood up straight and cleared his throat, "I'm the Doctor," he announced pleasantly, stretching out a hand. Bree blinked up at him, but took his hand calmly, "Bree, and, Doctor of what?"

He grinned, shaking her hand vigorously, and privately thanked her for not asking Doctor who, so many jokes, so many very very old jokes, "Of everything!" he responded proudly.

Bree frowned in consternation, "Of everything? How could you be a doctor of everything?" The Doctor shrugged with a milder version of his earlier grin still in place, "I just am, kind of unique I am," and he smiled widely again, he seemed to enjoy smiling.

Bree blinked again and thought to herself, 'This must be the most insane night I have ever had ever. This is worse than the night we watched a marathon of Angel reruns until two o'clock in the morning.'

Needless to say, that night was very crazy.